Love Charm
by RY16
Summary: While helping with his upperclassmen's projects, Ace might've accidentally drunken a love potion, but what happens next may just his romantic life (or lack thereof) needs...
1. 1

The leather-bound, musty old spell books were piled so high Ace could barely see over them. He trod down the hallway carefully, mentally going over the directions Marco had given him. He knew he was in the right place as soon as he heard Thatch's laughter echoing down the hall.

Ace's eyes automatically skimmed over the door, a slight grin spreading across his face as he kicked it lightly as a knock. "It's Ace," he shouted, his eyes lingering on the paper sheet duck taped to the door.

The original _Keep Out_ message on the door seemed to have been crossed out long ago, and a series of other things had been written below the original message. The most recent one read _Danger: Thatch cooking_ in Thatch's own quirky handwriting. So far, it had been sufficient to keep intruders and troublemaker's away, though the wizard's reputation for brewing explosive mixes preceded him.

The door opened in front of him and a pair of warm hands rubbed his giving him chills as the books were lifted from his arms with haste. "Took you long enough," Marco muttered with a hint of a scowl. Ace ignored the irritation in his voice and rubbed his hands together where Marco had touched. The dark bags under his eyes and the green and blue hues in his hair told him he'd been up all night and still hadn't figured out how to turn his hair back to its usual golden blond. When the light hit it, it shone and Ace could swear it was as warm as the sunshine.

"Damn first-year brat!" The sudden shout brought Ace back to reality. "Are you going to stand there all day?" Ace shook his head and stepped inside the practice room, pursing his lips into thin lines. Marco was in a bad mood, and on those occasions, he had a predisposition to yell at people.

Thatch and Izo were busy with their own projects, open books and several ingredient jars littered atop their desks. Izo's project was related magical tattoos and the community around them – which he was a part of, possessing quite a few himself. Thatch's was a secret – they always were until they were ready – but a there was a pinkish smoke rising from his cauldron, bubbling, and hissing occasionally.

"Ace," Thatch called. "Would you be so kind as to taste test my new work?"

Usually, Thatch's projects were either huge successes or failures of epic proportions.

Ace's brows furrowed together and he took a small step back almost on instinct. "Wha- What does it do exactly?"

"Oh, it's harmless," Thatch gave him a warm smile. "It shouldn't affect you physically but the effects should be immediate."

Marco glanced between the two and shook his head slightly with a disapproving look before returning to his work. "I wouldn't recommend," he muttered without looking up, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Ace stole a glimpse at his hair and at the pink liquid Thatch was pouring into a cup, and swallowed dryly, hoping the worst thing that could happen was his hair turning pink. He accepted the cup and took a good, solid minute to look at it.

"Bottom's up," Thatch said in encouragement.

Ace brought the cup to his nose and found the smell rather appealing. "Bottom's up," he muttered and he gulped it down.

The pink liquid left a sweet aftertaste in his mouth and throat but otherwise, he felt fine – at first – and then it hit him like a kick in the stomach, and Ace barely felt the strength leave his legs. His knees buckled and he fell to the floor.

"Ace," he heard Marco whisper, and Ace raised his head to look at him. His eyes focused on every detail of the other's face: his pupils were dilated, his usually half-lidded eyes wide open at him with concern, his brows knitted together in a frown and his lips were pressed thinly together. _Now_ , he looked at him, Ace thought. Ace dropped his gaze to the floor, to his own interlocked fingers.

Marco kneeled in front of him, his paint-smudged fingers reaching to touch his. "Ace, how are you feeling?" A humming sensation flared under his skin where Marco's hands touched him, warm.

"I… I think I'm okay," Ace said in a low voice, snatching his finger's away from Marco's grasp a bit too swiftly, a bit too brusquely.

Thatch and Izo who had been watching their interaction very intently released a sigh of relief almost in unison.

"What in the hell was that, Thatch?!" Marco nearly shouted at him, his anger blatant but kept in check. He stood slowly, turning to face them.

Thatch glimpsed sideways at Izo, who simply raised a brow in response, crossing his arms in front of his chest. The potion itself still bubbled, still released a translucid pink cloud that smelled faintly of vanilla. Thatch took a glimpse at it, at the recipe, and finally at Marco. "Well, it doesn't seem to have worked the way it was supposed to," he admitted in a deliberately slow manner and gave them a nervous grin.

Marco's eyes narrowed at him with suspicion, and Izo too gave Thatch a dubious look, a wrinkle between his brows. "Say it," he barked.

"To tell you the truth, I thought I was making a dove charm, but I think I might've mixed some of the wrong ingredients because this wasn't what was supposed to happen." Thatch stole a quick look at the handwritten recipe. "This was something I found folded inside an old book that a senior left behind and the handwriting is a bit hard to decipher so…."

"So?" Marco demanded, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

"So, I might have misread it. There is a small chance that it might actually be a… love charm."

Ace's lips parted in surprise.

Marco glanced back at Ace, his eyes wide in what seemed to be fear. "What exactly do you mean, Thatch?"

"That's the problem," he admitted, his lips curling into a nervous tight-lipped smile. "I'm not entirely sure but if it is, in fact, some form of love potion he'll fall for someone… unless… he's already in love with someone."

"It's okay, Marco," Ace said, struggling to get on his feet. He saw the floor move, shift out of place for a moment, but he focused on the solid feeling beneath his feet. "It's not Thatch's fault. I agreed to drink it."

"Yes, and a wonderful idea that was!" Marco snapped with a slight curling of his lips. He shook his head slightly and muttered a curse under his breath.

"And, you," he pointed to Thatch. "I'll have a word with you later." Thatch simply nodded. He had a sullen, guilty look about him, and he was no doubt fearing his conversation with Marco.

Afterwards, they went back to Marco's place. He wouldn't let Ace out of his sight, and he had more assignments than there were days in a week, so Ace didn't protest.

Marco's grades had earned him a private room in the dormitory. It wasn't much bigger or different than Ace's, though. In fact, the only thing different was that instead of a bed across from his own, Marco had a couch.

Ace was lying on the couch, a cold compress on his forehead, covering most of his field of vision. "Marco?"

He sat at the table, a pair of reading glasses propped on his nose as his eyes darted between his notes and his open laptop. "Yeah?"

Ace pushed himself up on his elbows, and into a sitting position. The cold compress fell to his lap with a soft plop. "I'm feeling perfectly fine now, so I'm going to head back to my apartment."

"Ace…" Marco glanced away from his laptop's screen. His brows were knitted together in concern, his lips pressed together tightly.

Ace felt the heat rising to his cheeks and dropped his gaze to his lap. "It's fine, Marco. I don't want to bother you any more than I already have…

"Ace you're not—

"And it's getting late and my brothers will probably freak out if I don't go home soon…"

Marco stared at him silently for a moment, shoulders slumped and lips pressed into a line. "Ace, you know why I can't let you go home."

Ace took a glimpse at him, his eyes lingering on the other's face longer than he wanted to. "You don't have to worry about me falling in love with someone, Marco. If it was going to happen, don't you think it would've happened when I drank that damned thing? Or on the way here?"

Ace's lips curved into a grim smile. If only Marco knew, if only he was as attentive to him before he drank that potion, he would've noticed Ace was already in love with him.

"Do you even understand what love potions do, Ace? They don't make you fall in love. They make you infatuated with someone, obsessed with them. The stronger the love potion, the worse is the effect. Some people stop eating, stop sleeping..."

Marco's sudden silence sent a shiver down Ace's spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Some people stopped eating, stopped sleeping… and what Marco left unsaid was that some people died.

"I'm fine," he said flatly. "And I'm leaving."

Marco shot up from his chair faster than Ace could push himself up from the couch. He almost sprinted to stand in front of him, his hands raised to stop him. He grabbed Ace's shoulders in a tight grip and tried to push him back down. "Ace, sit down."

Ace was nearing his breaking point; he couldn't stand Marco's careful tone, his frequent glimpses when he didn't think he was looking. "Or what?"

Marco's lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes averting Ace's. "Please stay," he said gently.

Ace's heartbeat was loud against his ears. Whether it was because he was angry or nervous he wasn't sure, but he'd never heard that tone from Marco before, and it scared him a little.

He stopped struggling, and let Marco push him down to a sitting position. He gave Ace a small smile before he back stepped and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Marco, you and I both know I'm fine. Other than that initial reaction, nothing has happened," Ace said. "If I was under the effect of a love potion wouldn't have I tried something by now?"

Marco's gaze was intense. "Something?" he asked.

Ace blushed, suddenly acutely aware of the possible meaning of his words. "I don't know… something."

"Something…" Marco murmured and swallowed dryly. He reached for Ace's hand, stopping just a few inches from touching him. His hand lingered in the air for a second, before he touched Ace's. He glanced up to look at Ace whose cheeks were redder than a tomato, his lips slightly parted in anticipation. "Something like this?"

.

.

.

* * *

 **A/N: This started out super fun but then I had a lot of trouble with the ending, so I'm pretty sure I won't be continuing unless it gets really good feedback... Or I might use this AU again for another pairing or even the same pairing but in a different situation, who knows...**


	2. 2

"Stay here," Marco asked softly. He gave him small smile, trying to reassure him. Ace's nervousness was a bit unsettling, a sharp reminder of how young and inexperienced he was (in many ways).

Ace's lips were pressed into a thin line; He simply nodded curtly in response, his eyes very wide, never leaving Marco's gaze.

Marco pulled his hand away from Ace's and rose to his feet in a deliberately slow movement. "It's settled then. Let me see if I can find you some sheets and a pillow," he whirled around and trudged to the closet, Ace's gaze prickling the hairs on the back of his neck.

He swallowed dryly and wished for a dreamless night, though he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to fall asleep with Ace just a few inches away from him.

…

The unfamiliar room startled him in the morning. Ace pushed himself into a sitting position and pulled his knees against his chest, his cheeks flared and his eyebrows furrowed together as the memories of the previous night returned to him. Numerous scenarios and concerns crossed his mind, from the ideal to the worst possibilities. He was so concentrated on himself that he hadn't even noticed Marco's absence.

"Are you okay?"

Marco's voice brought Ace back to reality. He shook his head momentarily and glanced back in the direction of the bathroom where Marco stood shirtless dressed in clean jeans with a towel wrapped around his neck, his hair still damp.

Ace averted his gaze quickly. "Yeah, I'm just…"

Just then, there was a knock on the door and a slight scratching on the wood. It steered Marco's attention away from him and Ace felt immensely relieved.

As he leisurely headed toward the door, Ace's eyes caught the slight movement of his hands curling into fists. He took a deep breath before unlocking the door. For a second, Ace wondered why he didn't ask who it was.

"Marco," a deep male voice calls. Ace can barely make out the other person's features but a face crosses his mind – the face of a carefree, one-armed, red-headed professor.

"I told you to stop showing up here," Marco said. One of his hands was planted on the wall just after the doorframe and the other grasped the door so tightly Marco's knuckles were white.

"Marco, I miss you," the professor admitted in a low voice. He imagined the professor's easy grins in class and he wondered if that was the expression he had on for Marco now. Which ones were real and which ones were fake, he wondered faintly.

His hand clasped Marco's arm, tried to push him inside but Marco stood his ground. "Leave. _Now._ " Ace had never heard such anger in Marco's voice. He had a terrible sensation in the pit of his stomach.

"Why? Do you have company?"

Ace tensed immediately, frozen in place suddenly both embarrassed and scared.

"That's really none of your business." With a swift, sudden motion, Marco pushed the other man out and away from him and shut the door.

There was no protest from the professor – only a low laugh and steps retreating.

Marco closed his eyes and sighed with a quick shake of his head. His shoulders slumped as if he was releasing all the tension from his body. Even Ace released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Dozens of questions swirled back and forth in his mind, but he settled for this one. "Why was Professor Shanks here?" It was a stupid question, he knew, but he couldn't just well ask what was really on his mind. _Were you two involved? Are you still involved? For how long? Was it just sex or are you in love with him?_ That last question gave him chills and heat to his cheeks. Most importantly, though, Ace wanted to know what Marco felt about him and though earlier he was concerned and a nerve wreck, now he felt almost hurt, pessimistic, and bitter. It was selfish and unfair as neither of them had even admitted to any feelings, let alone be in a relationship. Perhaps, he should be mad at himself. His hopes, dreams, concerns were all just a result of his overactive imagination. His expectations were unrealistic and wishful, as all expectations were.

Marco frowned at the question and avoided looking into Ace's eyes. "It's nothing, and it's over now," he said. Marco looked over at Ace.

He simply nodded in response, in return avoiding Marco's gaze.

Silence fell between them as neither seemed to know what to say next, but it was a heavy, unbearable silence that made Ace want to scream. So, he motioned off the bed and gathered his things.

"I have class," he said quietly.

"Yes…" Marco said quickly. "I should go too," he added and stepped aside to let Ace pass, shoving his hands into his pockets.

The rest of the day was a blur for Ace. Classes, conversations... he heard the words, he participated, answered questions but at the end of the day he had only a vague memory of doing so.

Even now, sitting in the gardens in peace and quiet as he tried to focus on the book sitting open on his lap, his thoughts were drifting elsewhere.

Earlier, he'd texted Izo asking if Marco was at the lab. _"Yeah, he's here" –_ came as a reply. _"He's in a mood today and very distracted. I suggest you stay away."_ He did, but he had already planned to anyway. In truth, he had no reason to avoid Marco, or Marco him, but whenever he thought of calling or tried texting him, the words failed him. He didn't know how to go from being fairly certain Marco knew he liked him to something else (if Marco wanted something else, that is).

"You're Ace, right?" A warm hand on his shoulder and a familiar voice shook him back into focus. "Marco's friend?"

Ace stared up from his book, his eyes widening at the person who'd spoken to him. It was one of Marco's brothers. He couldn't recall his name but he'd seen him around enough times.

"Y-yes, I'm Ace."

"Finally," he grinned at him broadly, so nonchalantly that Ace couldn't help but smile back. "I've been looking all over the place for someone who can help me. Marco's not answering my calls and I really need to give this to him, do you know where he is?"

Marco's brother had a brown, cardboard box in his arms. He was dressed in a red and green uniform with a logo on the shirt that he didn't recognize.

"Yeah, he's in the lab. It's just by the—

"Actually, could _you_ give this to him? I'm running late."

"Yeah, sure, don't worry about it." Well, that certainly was an opportunity to talk to him.

The package exchanged hands then and the two parted in different directions, Ace heading directly to the lab. He set out at a brisk pace and tried to prepare himself mentally. This was going to be an ordinary conversation so there was no need to be so nervous and sweating all over the place. He was just going to deliver a package, and after? He'd think of something, then.

By the time he reached the lab his palms were sweating profusely.

Ace let himself in, instead of knocking. He didn't trust his voice enough to speak yet. Marco was sitting slouched on a chair near the window, his feet on top of a small coffee table. His head was thrown back, staring at the ceiling except Ace could see his eyes were closed. He didn't think he was sleeping, though. A fairly empty ashtray was beside his feet along with an open book and a mug holding a hot beverage most likely coffee. It was a surprisingly familiar and ordinary sight.

Izo and Thatch were both working on their own projects. They exchanged glances but neither made a sound when they spotted him at the door, cheeks possibly flushed, sweat drops streaming down his neck and back and a package in his hands. Which in truth was also a familiar and ordinary sight. They both decided, though, that it would be better to remove themselves from that room as quickly and quietly as possible - and stay out at least for the next thirty minutes.

 _Alright,_ he took a deep breath, _this is it._

His heartbeat thundered in his ears so loud he could barely make out the sounds of his footsteps as he approached Marco. He could smell the faint aroma of Izo's chocolate cigarettes and Thatch's newest bubbling concoction.

"Marco?"

His eyes snapped open and he immediately shifted positions, sitting straighter, dropping his feet from the table. He stole a quick glimpse at Ace before his gaze fell. "Hey," he murmured. From that angle, the circles under his eyes looked darker, more marked in contrast with the shade of his skin.

Ace felt a question rising in his throat, one that he couldn't bear to shove down. "Are you okay?" He asked in a soft voice, all of his previous nerves gone and replaced with concern and an overwhelming awareness of the silence all around them. "Marco," he called again louder, his hands' grasp tightening on the box.

"What's that?" The other asked without looking at Ace.

Ace's lips pressed into a thin line, irked that Marco had avoided his question. "Your brother brought it," he said and went to drop the box at the table in front of him, and while he was there he might as well pull up a chair to sit and force Marco to look at him.

Marco ignored him and grabbed the box, placing it on his lap as he worked on unwrapping it. His brows were furrowed together in concentration and there was a hint of a smile forming on his lips.

"What is it?"

"It's an old family spell book. When I asked for it my brother told me he didn't know where it was," he pulled out the book, pushing the package to the floor with a nudge of his elbow. Marco grinned then, broadly and unabashedly, with wrinkling around his eyes. Ace couldn't help but smile back.

He'd seen enough of old books to know that wasn't one, though the elaborate carvings on the red-leather cover were beautiful and resembled the old-style books. "He made you a copy," Ace mused as soft as a whisper. Marco nodded.

"Marco," Ace repeated, softly, trying not to alarm the other or ruin the moment. "Listen, I—

"Wait, l need to say something about this morning," his voice was suddenly very serious.

"No, Marco." Ace shook his head. "You don't have to." Ace didn't know what he'd been thinking earlier, Marco didn't owe him any explanations… even if he did want to know.

"But I want to," he said, his hands still clutching the book tightly in his lap. "That guy this morning…" he paused, his eyes dropped to the floor. "It happened twice and it didn't mean anything to me, but he still shows up sometimes..."

Marco's gaze leveled with his, his brows in a frown and his lips pressed together. Ace was quiet for a few seconds, unsure of what to say. "…thank you, for telling me that," he muttered.

They were both quiet, and though he wanted to say something, the silence wasn't entirely uncomfortable. It was somewhat peaceful, actually.

His gaze was steady on Marco's when he spoke. "Do you… want to get some pizza?"

Marco smiled.


End file.
